


Uneasy Lies the Head

by JantoJones



Series: Brief Briefings [2]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 07:24:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6414406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoJones/pseuds/JantoJones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr Waverly often regrets the decisions he must make.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Uneasy Lies the Head

Alexander Waverly stood in the medical suite and silently observed the two unconscious men. He'd known, as had they, that the assignment he'd sent them on was almost certainly a suicide mission. How they'd escaped the massive explosion was anyone's guess, and would only be known if, and when, they recovered. The doctor had tentatively given Napoleon Solo a good prognosis, but for Illya Kuryakin, it wasn't so positive. It was no surprise that the Russian had received the worst of it. He seemed to be a magnet for injury, but that was what made him a superb agent. The assignment always came first. The same could be said for Solo, but he seemed to have a better guardian angel.

The head of U.N.C.L.E. Northwest often had to make some tough decisions, and sacrificing his top team had been one of the hardest. Feelings of guilt were a luxury that Mr Waverly rarely afforded himself, but the possible loss of these two was hard to accept; even for the hardened Old Man.

A groan from one of the beds distracted Mr Waverly from his reflections, and he was surprised to see Kuryakin looking at him. The blond looked so pale, it was hard to tell where he ended, and the crisp white sheets began.

"Were we successful, Sir?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"Yes, my boy," Waverly replied softly, marvelling at the young man's dedication to duty. "You and Mr Solo did a good job."

Illya smiled faintly and slipped back into unconsciousness, just as Napoleon moaned his way back into the waking world. His first question was also of the mission, the second was a concerned one for his partner.

"He is very unwell, Mr Solo, but I have no doubt he will recover, despite what his doctor says."

"He's stubborn like that."

Moving to Napoleon's bedside, Mr Waverly sat down in the chair. The CEA could tell his boss had something on his mind, but did push him.

"Please accept my apologies for having to send you on this assignment," the Old man finally said. "However, you must know that should the need arise, I would do it again. Somewhat reluctantly, I admit."

"Sir. Every agent knows what they sign up for, and we are all aware that an early death is likely. We have to do our duty, as you have to do yours. I just hope I'll have the courage to make those decisions when I am standing in your shoes."

"You will do admirably, Mr Solo," Waverly assured his heir presumptive. "Especially with your Russian friend to help. Now then, some of us haven't got time to lie about all day."

As Mr Waverly left the room, Napoleon looked from him to Illya. As CEA, he often had to make difficult choices, as did Illya, as Number 2 Section 2. However, it was the Wily Englishman who had the hardest task, and one day Napoleon would have to wear the crown. He wasn't sure he would ever be ready for that.


End file.
